


Tempered Tales for the Hard of Hearts

by Trashy_Cannot



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-01-24 05:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18564958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashy_Cannot/pseuds/Trashy_Cannot
Summary: Beauregard. A name with many stories behind it.(A.K.A. where all of my works for Beau Week 2019 will be located)





	1. Mistakes, Wine, and Bruised Knuckles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First day! The prompt was Young Beau/Animals so I went with the first with a hint of the second.
> 
> Warnings: Language and a bit of violence
> 
> Enjoy!

  Her clearest memory comes when a blow collides with her temple.

 

_She was seven, running away from her father’s frustrated yelling and towards the outside of her home._

_It was a free-time habit._

_A rat that scurried beneath her feet was now a few paces ahead of her, as she ignored the chiming in of her mother, scolding her for chasing an unclean animal._

_Of course, Beau didn’t give a damn. Or in her seven-year-old mind, she didn’t give a darn. Her new shoes she received for her birthday sunk into the outdoor mud, rain unable to wash away the new stains. Mud caked into her socks and shoes, as her attention turned away from the rat and towards her sun-yellow dress, its color dampened by the rain and specks of mud she kicked up._

_Grunting in frustration, she lifted her skirt out of the mud and began stomping forward, once more turning her attention to the rat she was chasing, stuck in the same situation._

_Inching forward, the mud began to reach midway on her shins, though her determination kept her from feeling the cold sensation gripping her feet. She was barely an arm’s length away from it now. Beau leaned as far as she could, her knees starting to sink in. Almost-_

_Beau’s fingertips brushed the still tail of the rat, as her dress was yanked back, her efforts undone in a matter of moments._

_“Young lady.” her father growled, his eyes focusing on her own._

_Beau turned away, giving a gruff, “What?”_

_He scoffed._

_“The gods gave us a daughter instead of a son, and she can’t even act like one.” he paused and turned her chin back to his face. “Beauregard, don’t ever chase a rat again. Your mother has already spoken to you about this. Take a shower and think about what you’ve done.”_

_He began to pull her by the collar of her dress, shoving her into their house and towards a maid._

_Beau would never admit it, but her hour-long shower was filled by muffled sobs, a distant comfort while her maid scrubbed the mud caked beneath her fingernails._

 

  The monk blinked and refocused on the staggering figure in front of her before a sloppy punch hit her other temple.

 

_At 15, it never seemed like her father’s distaste for her behavior faded away. Even though she was months into working in their winery, the days of counting barrels and gold her father earned felt contrived and maddening._

_Her father may have gotten better clothes on their backs, but he was still the same dick he was before._

_Probably worse._

_Glancing outside an open window to their winery, Beau sighed. The moon had barely risen. Glancing at her surroundings, and the quieting outside, she began to shut her eyes, leaning against her well-worn desk._

_Her eyes blinked open when she heard rustling from where the wines were stored. Sighing to herself, Beau picked up a spare shovel and crept towards the backroom, and stepped past the newly-opened threshold._

_Cursing herself, Beau scanned the dark room, seeing no disturbance. Swearing to herself, she stepped deeper in, freezing when her foot pressed against an old panel, creaking._

_“Shit-”_

_Beau felt her body lose control of itself, her body slammed against some of the newer barrels. A flicker of light sparked into a flame, a lantern somehow appearing out of nowhere and settling itself onto a stool she forgot existed._

_Beau attempted to step forward, wincing when a cold blade pressed into her neck._

_“Who are you?” she spat, staring into dark eyes peeking through a masked face._

_Her assailant pulled away._

_“My name doesn’t matter. You, on the other hand…” the stranger trailed, her eyes looking Beau over._

_“This is trespassing. My father would have you-”_

_“Don’t you hate your dad?”_

_“What?”_

_The woman rolled her eyes and pulled back her mask._

_“Don’t you hate your dad?”_

_Beau felt her heart jump in her ribcage._

_“Y-Yeah, ‘course I do.”_

_The stranger nodded, a smirk pulling at her lips._

_“Good. I’m here to smuggle some wine.” she whispered, pulling one of the oldest wines off a rack and popping the cork off with her knife, before downing a few good gulps._

_Beau felt her jaw slack._

_“What do you need?” she whispered._

_Over the next few months, Beau stood at her post, allowing her stranger to come in every week and ‘order’ a few hundred bottles of wine, and putting the cost under some other noble’s tab. The rich in Kamordah never noticed a few thousand gold go missing from under their nose anyway._

_Yet her fellow smuggler never kept the same name, always opting to give Beau a wink and a nod to hint at who she really was._

_It only took a couple of years for her father to catch their scent, and her smuggler was gone. Memories of sneaking wine into a cart or other illegal activities remained in the past._

 

  Beau grunted to herself and rushed into her opponent’s torso, shoving him against a weak table. A hard elbow embedded itself into her spine.

 

_One time, months later, Beau awoke tied to a chair._

_“Allow me to introduce myself, Beauregard.”_

_“Beau.”_

_“…Beau. I am Zeenoth. I’m here to discipline you, at the behest of your father.”_

_Beau groaned._

_Years passed in the Cobalt Soul, her blind haymakers never improving, to the ever-increasing chagrin of her mentor. Despite her talent, she was never focused and precise in her strikes._

_Before his temper could reach a fever-pitch, Beau ran. She hit town to town, moving south as far away from Kamordah as she could._

_Letters from her parents lacked initial fervor the longer and farther away she was from her old home._

 

  This night, alone in a cheap inn, a letter came for her. Reading it stung like a bitch, and Beau was soon stomping down the inn’s stairs for a hard drink and for someone to throw a hook against.

  It didn’t take long.

  She took beatings that jogged memories she was trying to drink away.

  Spitting blood from her mouth, Beau stood up from her position on the floor, shoving memories aside. Beau rolled her shoulders and focused on the muscled human turned away from her. His clothes were just as bloodied as her, and he was sitting to take a gulp of ale, catching bronze and silver coins thrown his way.

  Smirking to herself, Beau pulled one of the two wine bottles she kept to herself, gripped its neck, and sent it to the back of his head.

  The man braced himself against his table, turning around with blood streaked across his bare scalp. Beau didn’t notice the blood running down her brow.

  “You fuckin’ bitch-”

  Beau bolted towards him, ducking beneath a loose hook before upper-cutting him in the ribs and ramming her hand, curled into a leopard fist, into his throat, knocking him onto the floor.

  “I want my ten silver.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! Just as a heads up each entry will be uploaded at 7P.M. EST.
> 
> Thank you for reading and comment, kudos, critique, or share if you'd like!


	2. Familiarizing Fists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back again. Also, I just realized that the first three days of this week all have a connection to a fight, so I'm sorry in advance if it does feel repetitive. Day two is a Bar Brawl/Training, and I decided to do both. 
> 
> Warnings: Violence and language
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

  Beau stumbled out of a dark building, nursing her spinning head and bruised cheek. As much as learning new skills was fun, getting pummeled into a bruised and bloody pulp was not.

  Her head stilling and her sight clearing, Beau’s eyes fell onto the tavern she was staying in. She still had enough energy to drag her through a lazy brawl, so long as she downed a cup of ale first.

  Which was something she was about to do.

  She sat on a stool, next to one of the largest men in the room. Smirking to herself, she flicked a couple bronze the bar tender’s way, pointing a blood-encrusted finger to the cheapest ale there. Beau withdrew a silver from her coin pouch and slid it towards the man next to her.

  “How much d’you bet you can knock me over?” she slurred.

  “You shouldn’t bet on something that’s bound to happen. It’s improper.” he scoffed, fiddling with the worn-down sliver in his palm.

  “Are you nobility?” Beau groaned, gesturing wildly and drawing the attention of many eyes. “Gods, we’re in a bar, speak like it, fuckwit.”

  She could’ve sworn a vessel in his forehead popped.

  “Listen here you little-”

  “Just punch me already.”

  The man cocked his head and threw a haymaker her way.

  It was _too easy_ to dodge.

  Beau rotated her torso out of the way and met his furious gaze with a cocky one. She shifted backward and towards the center of the inn.

  _“Keep your eyes on your opponent.” Dairon spoke, shoving Beau back by the shoulder. “Keep an occasional eye on theirs, and focus on their torso and hips. Often times they’ll move those before their fists, at least if they know how to fight.”_

_Beau raised a brow but followed her instructor’s commands, stepping backward and keeping her eyes focused on various points throughout Dairon’s body._

_“Good. Now dodge.”_

The man stumbled forward, snapping his torso forward to send another loose haymaker Beau’s way.

  The monk tilted her head away from calloused knuckles and kept her eyes trained on his shoulders. Maybe her mentor was right.

  _“It’s a good thing you learn quickly, Beauregard.”_

_“Beau.”_

_“Right. Now you remember how to pull information from an opponent’s ki?”_

Beau nodded to herself and stepped behind her opponent, jamming her knuckles into various spots on his spine, even reaching the base of his wide neck.

  Siphoning ki away from someone always felt weird. The cool threads of ki that were pulled from his essence flowed into her own. It felt like dousing her fingertips in the hottest fires and the coolest rivers. In moments she understood almost every aspect of him. She knew what to do next.

  _“Incapacitate your opponent when appropriate. Try it on me now.”_

Beau scanned her surroundings and her opponent, ducking under a blind fist and jumping onto a table next to him. She hopped down and sent a fist his way, yet this time he dodged. He straightened his posture and grinned at her.

  “That all you got? You shouldn’t have put that silver in, love.”

  “Shit.”

  Beau turned around just in time for him to grab her by the collar and shove her backward into a metal-rimmed table. Air left her lungs and her world halted for a few moments, as her drunken vision blurred further.

   _“You missed. Refocus yourself, balance your center. Try again.”_

The monk took a slightly less inebriated breath in and watched various points on his body as he barreled towards her. She ignored her peripherals, filled with drunken cheer, and stared into his eyes, dodging at the last moment, allowing him to run into the table.

  _“If you want to act, sometimes you must react.” Dairon spoke, brushing dirt off Beau’s shoulder. “You can combine what you’ve learned. If I miss, you can incapacitate me in retaliation.”_

_“How’s that supposed to work?” she muttered, trying to shrug off the bruises littering her body._

_“Simply follow what you’ve learned. Focus, dodge, and strike. All of those actions are what you’ve studied. Level your head, use your ki, then use those skills in harmony.” Dairon paused. “You can do this, Beau.”_

She breathed in and continued focusing.

  The man grunted and pushed himself off the table, spinning around and taking furious steps towards Beau. He cracked his knuckles and sent a punch directed for her face.

  She glanced the blow off with her arm and grabbed his wrist, using his momentum to send her elbow into his temple, funneling ki into the strike, and locking him in place.

  _Dairon’s muscles froze, and her eyes were locked onto her student’s._

_Beau could’ve sworn she saw a bit of pride peeking through._

_Dairon could, and would, never admit that, though._

_Seconds passed and Beau’s mentor shrugged the stun off, turning towards Beau._

_“Good job.”_

_“…Thanks.”_

Beau stood by, waiting for her opponent to begin moving again. One by one, the tense muscles in his body relaxed, and he turned to look at her.

  “You give up yet?” she taunted.

  He grunted and smoothed his clothes out. He wiped away blood from his cut lip, his eyes still trained on hers.

  Beau eyed him closely.

  He glanced to his side and back towards her.

  “What the-”

She looked to where he was glancing and instinctually held her hand up, just in time for a bolt to be caught in her hand. A burning sensation flooded the palm of her hand. Definitely got splinters from that.

  “What happened to the bet, shithead?” she spat, holding up the arrow.

  He grinned in silence.

  Beau turned back to his lackey and snatched another arrow mid-air.

  His grin fell.

  “Really?” she spat.

  The monk sent one arrow at his lackey's knee and the other at the man’s thigh, narrowly avoiding his loins.

  He went down on one knee, nursing his injury, swearing at the brawl’s onlookers for simply watching. His voice cracked in desperation.

  Beau tilted her head and held out her hand. He began to reach for it.

  “Can I have my coin back?”

  He swore at her and threw his coin pouch at the ground before being helped up by another patron of the tavern and escorted out. Glancing back, she spotted the injury with a pool of blood centered on the arrow growing wider and wider in rhythm to each step he took.

  Beau smirked and left.

  Walking into her shared room, the monk undid her wraps and shrugged off her coat, careful not to wake her roommate.

  “Beau? What happened?” Jester asked, her voice uneven from recently disturbed sleep.

  “Nothing, Jes. Just training.”

  Jester squinted at Beau’s form.

  “Let me heal you before I get my spells back, Beau.”

  “I’ll sleep it off.” Beau insisted.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay then.” Jester turned away for a moment before turning back. “Don’t blame me if you’re grumpy tomorrow because you’re sore.”

  _“Once more, you’ve proven why I chose to mentor you. Good job today, you may return to your group.”_

_Beau nodded at Dairon and turned around, placing her hand on the doorknob. She felt a trained gaze on the back of her neck._

_“Remember not to grow close to them.”_

_“I won’t.”_

  Beau chuckled at her friend, whispering, “I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I really went through Beau's different abilities for this. All super cool stuff, and I'm tempted to roll up a monk the next time I play D&D. 
> 
> Okay, enough of me gushing about cool abilities.
> 
> If you'd like, please leave comments, kudos, and critiques, and don't forget to share! (again that's of your own volition)
> 
> EDIT: Hundred hits lemme take a seat and drink some water WOW


	3. Modern-Day MMA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would say that title is a clever pun, but it was all this tiny brain could squeeze out. Yeah, I decided to do the modern-day prompt.
> 
> Also as a preface, this will (hopefully) be the last time a fight takes the forefront of the story because while it has been interesting to flex muscles I usually don't flex, this undoubtedly has been monotonous for you.
> 
> Warnings: Violence and language.
> 
> Enjoy!

  Beau sat down on a bench, wiping away sweat with a cloth and downing a bottle of water in one gulp. Every muscle in her body felt like it was nothing but lactic acid. Dairon sat down next to her.

  “You understand that this fight can elevate you to higher levels, yes?”

  Beau nodded.

  “Good. But…know that you are still welcomed among us, and my mentorship is waiting.” Dairon spoke, patting Beau’s shoulder before leaving the gym.

  She sighed to herself and undid her wraps.

  The gym’s ringer buzzed and heavy, but gentle, footsteps followed.

  “Are you ready for tonight?” an Irish accent spoke.

  Beau turned around to see Molly limping towards her, and Yasha next to him.

  “Yeah.” Beau took a gulp of water from another bottle. “What are you two doing here?”

  Molly’s lips pulled into a grin, as he opened his mouth, saying, “Yasha really wanted to see you _but_ I also wanted to wish you luck. I hope you beat that bastard’s ass.”

  The fighter smiled and looked between the two, her gaze momentarily falling on Yasha. Beau stood up and pulled Molly into a tight hug. Yasha joined in, hesitant to hug either of her friends with any real strength.

  Beau pulled back.

  “Today’s the day Lorenzo’s gonna lose his winning streak. I might even give him a limp too.” Beau snarked, grinning at Molly’s prideful expression.

  That evening was full of buzzing energy the moment Beau stepped into the worn-down venue.

  She had so many reasons to be here, to be doing this underground. But her determination was quickly drowned out by the anxiety that settled itself in her belly. Even with her friends checking in on her and cheering her up, she still felt _scared_.

  Dairon came into her peripherals and placed a gentle, but firm, hand on her shoulder.

  “You’ll do good.” her mentor said, glancing back at the company Beau kept. “Despite my weariness of how close you are to them, I don’t doubt their sincerity of how they wish this fight to end. Good luck. I will speak when the rounds are called.”

  Dairon stepped away and Molly limped into her place, leaning against the ring’s fence.

  “Good luck, though knowing you, you won’t need it.” he whispered.

  “Thanks.”

  “Alright folks, it’s about time for the Victory Pits down in the great city of Zadash!” the announcer belted, pausing to let the audience cheer. “We have our resident fighter, Beauregard!”

  Beau’s ears were filled with the senseless churn of the audience’s yelling. Adrenaline flooded her system, and fear continued to build up. Molly and Yasha’s cheers didn’t seem to ease a buzzing settling itself in her fists, both of which, she raised into the air in faux confidence.

  The announcer grinned at the excitement from the audience and shouted out, “Our reigning champion, flown in from Shadycreek Run is none other than Lorenzo!”

  The fighter turned and looked into the other corner of the hexagon. A hulking figure ducked beneath the fence’s door, and stepped in, raising one of his fists into the air. Grinning at his opponent, golden grills peeked through his mouthpiece.

  Beau felt firm hands hold her shoulders and looked back to see her friends giving her determined smiles. She nodded back at them and watched their referee closely.

  The referee stepped in the middle of the ring and pulled a microphone close to him, gesturing for the two fighters to come close.

  “I want a good match.” he paused, glancing back at the judges. “They’re being lenient and allowing for dirtier tactics tonight, so fight with all you’ve got.”

  Beau’s stomach sunk and her mind blurred. She nodded in silence and backed away, waiting for the fateful bell to be struck.

  A gentle ding came from her peripherals, and she stepped closer to Lorenzo, holding her fist out.

  He followed her lead and held his out.

  Their gloves were mere inches apart before a wide hook clocked her temple, and her back stopped itself centimeters from the ring’s floor.

  “Fine.” she mumbled.

  Hesitant blows came from her fists, and her feet were light. She dodged most of his attacks, but those that landed forced the air out of her lungs. Beau pulled back and studied his movements, which were all heavy but contained a speed not expected from someone his size.

  The first round ended and Beau backed away, ignoring disappointed boos from her fans.

  Caduceus and Dairon came to her side and threw her a bottle, a rag, and a stool.

  “Why were you so hesitant?” Dairon spoke, an unexpected edge dripping from her voice.

  “I-I’m trying to wear him down,” Beau took a sip of water. “I’m also trying to learn his style.”

  Caduceus nodded, patting a split brow and turning to Beau’s mentor.

  “She’s right, Ms. Dairon. Don’t worry, Beau still has two rounds to claim.”

  Dairon’s brow raised as she stood from her perch.

  “Good luck.” Dairon whispered.

  Beau stood up from her seated position and rolled her shoulders, walking towards the center of the ring once more.

  _The bell rung._

_Beau gripped the armrests of her chair, watching as Lorenzo pummeled his fists endlessly into Molly’s head, which was inching closer and closer into the ground._

_The lean man was pulled from his position atop her friend by the referee, where the judges called Lorenzo’s victory._

_It wasn’t truly fair, as Molly was limping by the end of the first round, and hit his head against one of the ring’s poles in the second._

_But in underground fights, no one really gives a damn._

She clenched her jaw and ducked beneath a cheap shot sent her way, digging her fist into his solar plexus. She spun around his hunched-over figure and brought her elbow into his side. Beau stepped back and narrowed her eyes, as Lorenzo straightened his back and growled, taking heavy steps towards her.

  Beau tilted her head away as he moved to punch her face into the fence. She grabbed his shoulders and sent knee after knee into his torso once more, making the man cough and back away from her. She shifted away from his range and kicked him once in the leg.

  He took it easily, but the red flooding his face showed his quickly tiring body.

  She kept dodging his attacks and focused on the same thigh, kicking whenever she could.

  The bell rung once more, and by that point, Lorenzo had to work to hide his struggling steps into his corner.

  Beau sat down once more, taking deep breaths and equally deep gulps.

  “Good job, Beauregard. You only have one more round, and I can tell you’re tired.” Dairon placed a cool hand on her hot shoulder. “Breathe, and outlast him. I have faith in you.”

  Dairon moved away and Molly limped into her place.

  “You’re making me happier than I expected. His limp’s almost as bad as mine.” he chided.

  The two chuckled and Caduceus wiped away the streaks of blood littering her skin, as he whispered, “That limp you gave him might become permanent if you keep at this pace, Ms. Beauregard.”

  Beau brushed the doctor off and stood back up, waiting for the bell to ring.

  Lorenzo and Beau met in the middle once more, giving each blow their all. At this point, Lorenzo’s punches and kicks were rendered ineffective by each dodge and parry Beau used, with her kicks filled with a venom that siphoned away at Lorenzo’s will. She could tell.

  Their trading of blows lasted for what could’ve been hours until he got a lucky one in. Across her temple, the fist sent Beau onto the ground, and the referee counted.

  Lorenzo didn’t wait until the referee to begin counting before his fists were colliding with her face, each punch pulling her further and further away from consciousness.

  Her sight continued to blur until the desperate yells from her friends rose from the yells of the audience.

  Beau grit her teeth and caught his fist, just in time for the referee to finish saying nine.

  She held an iron clasp on his hand and used it to shove him off her, into the perfect position for a choke.

  Beau dashed towards his shocked figure, as she looped her arm around his neck and braced her hold with her other arm, locking down his legs to the ring’s floor.

  His thrashing had Beau short of letting him go before he tapped out.

  A roar of cheer flooded the abandoned warehouse, with Beau standing up and raising her bruised fists to the air, quickly joined by her friends and mentor.

  The announcer ushered the two contestants to the center of the ring and held their wrist, and with a beat of silence, raised Beau’s into the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, I don't doubt that you're glad another fight scene is done. Anyway, tomorrow's prompt is one that I'm really excited about, I came up with an idea so fast when I first saw the prompt.
> 
> Anyway, leave a kudos, a comment, a critique, or share the work if you'd like!
> 
> Can't wait to see y'all soon!
> 
> EDIT: 200 hits? Thank you!


	4. Family Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this entry's a long one (at least for me), so I'd recommend settling yourself in before you read.
> 
> Warnings: (Mild) Language.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

  Beau let out a deep breath on top of her temporary bed and shut her eyes.

  A quiet knock came at her door.

  Opening the door, the monk stood face to face with her mentor, Dairon. She was cloaked in a dark hood that obscured most of her face but still showed enough for Beau to recognize her.

  “Yeah?” Beau whispered, careful not to wake anyone in the rooms around her.

  “This came for you.” Dairon placed a roll of parchment into Beau’s hand and closed her fingers around it. “I suggest you read it alone.”

  Beau’s brow raised, but shrugged and shut the door on an already-gone Dairon.

  The monk sat down at her complementary desk and peeled off an all-too familiar wax seal, and unrolled the parchment.

**_Dear (hopefully) Sister,_ **

**_I was informed by a couple of local librarians that there have been secrets hidden from me by my parents. While I love them dearly, I had suspected that there_ were _a plethora of things they kept from me with tight lips._**

**_You were one of them._ **

**_Any of those said librarians adamantly refused to tell me of your name, and I suppose that I can ask you of it later. All I request is confirmation that your last name is Lionett, and that you hail from Kamordah._ **

**_If so, then I have many questions to ask._ **

**_The first of which is simply: Why will our mother and father never speak of you, what happened?_ **

Beau froze and pushed the paper away from herself. Shutting her eyes, she tried to ignore the flood of memories that came back in droves, one memory coming to the forefront of her mind.

  _The monk stumbled drunkenly into her room, finished from a bar brawl she barely won._

_A roll of parchment lay on her bed._

_Beau squinted through her drunken gaze and picked it up, her thumb brushing her family’s crest. The paper was worn from what seemed to be weeks, if not months, of travel. The seal itself was half broken off._

_Gritting her teeth, she picked it off and unrolled it._

**_Dear Beauregard,_ **

**_Your mother and I saw it fit to say that while you were never welcome back to our home the moment you left that godsdamned library, we thought it best to make you aware of a recent development in the family. Of course you no longer belong to the Lionettes, but to make sure you truly understand that fact, we felt the need to send this final letter._ **

**_We have received a blessed son. A son you could never be, a son that will inherit the Lionett land and riches, and a son that will_ never _hear your name._**

**_May you rot in a corner of the world we will never see._ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_The Lionett Family._ **

**** _Beau’s fingertips nearly ripped through the paper with the death grip she held on it. Crushing it into a ball, she threw the parchment onto the floor, shutting her eyes in an effort to push back tears._

_It didn’t end up working._

_In an angry daze, Beau picked up the wrinkled paper and shoved it into the deepest corner of her satchel._

Beau picked her brother’s letter up once more, and brushed the strokes of pen and followed his distinct handwriting. Not aggravatingly neat like their mother’s, nor was it rough but refined. His handwriting was shit, but it had the beginnings of a noble’s hand.

  **_If you are comfortable, could we please communicate? One day, I’d like to meet you. I’d love to get to know my sister more. It feels lonely to be an only child, knowing that a sister with my blood is out there._**

**_If, once more, you are able, could you give your response to a librarian from the Cobalt Soul? They agreed to facilitate any conversation we can maintain, and keep it confidential._ **

**_I hope you are able to respond,_ **

**_Your Brother, B. Lionett._ **

The monk shoved the letter into her personal satchel and stomped down to the tavern’s bar, sitting next to Fjord. The half-orc had a delayed response, only turning to Beau when she pounded the table to get the barista’s attention.

  “You alright?” he slurred.

  “I’m good.” Beau spat, tossing a bronze to the bartender and taking a gulp of ale.

  Caduceus passed by the two and leaned into Fjord’s ear, whispering then leaving the two alone.

  “’Deucey said you’re not doing so hot. What happened?” he asked, attempting to shrug off the effect of alcohol and tiredness he had.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Beau, even if Caduceus had to tell me, I can tell you’re not good right now.”

  The monk groaned, whispering, “You remember that letter I told you about?”

  Fjord looked in the air, retracing old conversations they had together. He looked back down at his friend.

  “The one where your parents said you had a brother?”

  “Yeah.” Beau took another gulp of ale. “He just wrote to me.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “He said he wants to talk, learn more about me, Fjord.” she spoke.

  “You should do it.” he stated, trying to keep his words from mixing together.

  “I…don’t know. My father was pretty adamant about me no longer being part of the family.”

  Fjord turned and leaned in towards his friend.

   “This is your brother we’re talkin’ about, Beau.” Fjord spoke earnestly. “You have the same blood. You’re still family, _or_ you could very well become one, even without you parents.”

  Beau nodded and finished her tankard, standing up and gave Fjord a side hug, before tripping back into her room.

  Opening her door, Beau found Jester reading a crumpled piece of paper.

  “Shit-sorry, Beau.” Jester apologized, gently folding the parchment and putting it back into her satchel.

  “Don’t apologize.” Beau looked around the room for a hint she could’ve left behind, before spotting the seal Jester was playing with.

  “You have a brother? Are you going to speak with him?”

   Beau shrugged, and took the seal from Jester’s hand, saying, “I think so.”

  “Well let me send a message to him!” Jester offered, holding the hand that Beau was using to fidget with the seal.

  “…Alright.”

  Beau stood by as Jester waved in the air and cast _Sending,_ relaying an introduction for herself and Beau, as well as Beau’s response to her brother’s question. The monk gave instructions for her brother and how to respond, and soon enough, the two were using the spell at least once per day, to the cheerful, but bristled support of Jester.

  Months passed and Beau would often send a message in the evening, telling her brother of her day’s adventures, especially if she brushed by death. Her brother would respond in worried, but excited tones, admitting that he began to explore Kamordah at night, following the footsteps of his older sister.

  One night, Jester relayed Beau’s evening message, and waited.

  And waited.

  Beau paced, and fidgeted with her family’s seal, trying to rationalize a lack of response.

  They tried each night for a week to contact the younger Lionett, but to no avail. Beau came to no longer ask for Jester’s spell, and put away her family’s seal – something she tended to toy with in times of stress, or whenever she spoke with her brother.

  The last time they tried, Beau waited until Jester slept to cry into her pillow and keep a death grip on a wax seal that she’d kept for little over a year. In her sobbing, she crushed the wax and threw it to the floor.

  Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and while she wanted to yell at the gods for everything she’s dealt with in her godsdamned family, she only felt her throat tighten as she choked on her sobs. Beau’s chest heaved through the entirety of the night, and she couldn’t bring herself to sleep. She must’ve messed something up.

  A month passed and a knock came at Beau’s shared room.

  Dairon stood in silence, and handed Beau a new roll of parchment, with a clean seal.

  “…Thanks.”

  “Do not thank me.”

**_Former daughter of the Lionetts,_ **

**_Your brother is made known of the reality of your actions, and he absconds you, and your behavior. He realizes that he must inherit the Lionett name with grace, and he has agreed to no longer follow in your footsteps. He is a Lionett. Not a no-name._ **

**_This is truly your final letter from this family._ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_The Lionettes._ **

Beau tore the letter and threw it outside her room’s window, curling up on her bed and crying. A familiar pain in her chest from the past resurfaced, and her throat choked out staggered breaths and curses. Losing track of time, she shut her eyes and fell to sleep, her body too tired to keep her up.

  Jester pulled a blanket over her, and let Beau take her time.

  A week passed and Beau tried to take her mind off the past.

  A month passed and Beau had her mind centered on the Nein, keeping them closer than she did before.

  Another month passed, and Beau was alone in her room, disturbed when a gentle knock came at her door.

  Opening it, Beau looked down at a short kid, with dark skin and teal eyes, shaggy hair adorning his head, and equally worn-down clothes covering his emaciated-looking body. His cloak bore the crest of the Lionettes.

  “Is there any chance that your last name is Lionett?” he spoke, holding up his cloak’s crest.

  Beau smiled, and tears fell from her eyes.

  “Yeah.”

  Beau pulled her little brother into a tight hug, which he froze in, until his hands found itself around her torso and hugging her just as tightly. The pain that was in her chest disappeared, and all she found was the warmth emitted by his tiny body.

  “Kid, I never learned what you first name was.” she chuckled, wiping away a tear.

  “My name is Beauregard. What’s yours?”

  “Beau.” she responded.

  He grinned and hugged her once more, tighter, though his lean muscles easily gave out.

  “How did you find me. Beauregard?” Beau asked, ruffling his dirtied hair.

  “Easy. I followed your lead, Beau.”

  Beau chuckled aloud, tears still falling from her face. She pulled him into another hug and hoisted him into the air, carrying him down to the rest of the Nein, and introduced her brother to their new family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah that idea popped into my head the moment I read that prompt. Did I deliver well? I hope so. I hope you, as a reader, thought it was an interesting idea and enjoyed reading it.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, and hopefully, you leave a kudos, comment, critique, or share this work! 
> 
> See you tomorrow (Which is Lesbian Visibility day hell yeah)


	5. Her Kisses Are What Feel Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're probably wondering: What??? It's not 7 P. M. EST, why are you uploading? (or not, if you're not itching to read this collection), but I have something to do tonight that would overlap that time period so I figured I would have to upload this now. Also, I might do the same tomorrow (and even earlier than at 4 P.M. EST), because I'm watching Avengers: Endgame.
> 
> Warnings: Mildly inappropriate content (it's just kisses and allusions to more, nothing explicit).
> 
> With all that out of the way, I hope you enjoy!

  Ushering her friends into Caleb’s dome, Beau sat as close to the edge as possible, eyes set on the distant horizon. The sun grew smaller and smaller until there were only traces of light in the air – caused by stars. Putting her goggles on, the monk nearly jumped when a cup of tea nudged her arm.

  “Holy shit, Caduceus. Could you be any more creepy right now?” Beau muttered, taking the tea from his hand.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Beau. I don’t have your goggles so I had to guess where you were.” Caduceus whispered, sipping his tea.

  Beau squinted and handed him her goggles, before leaning back on one hand and using the other to sip tea. Caduceus scanned the fields surrounding them and turned back to Beau.

  “Are you alright?”

  The monk blinked and looked at where his voice came from, saying, “Yeah, just a bit tired is all.”

  “You should sleep then.” he rumbled, pouring spare tea into their cups.

  “I can’t let you take a watch alone, Cad.”

  Caduceus nodded and the two sat in silence, letting cool minutes pass as the moon rose. Caduceus glanced back at his watchmate, who was staring at Yasha, asleep.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Hm? Nothing.”

  Caduceus raised a brow, and even in darkness, Beau could see his insight shine through.

  “Just thinking about love, I guess.”

  “Love?” Caduceus paused to sip. “Don’t you love everyone here?”

  “Yeah, Cad, but maybe I’m falling _in_ love. Or maybe I’m not. I don’t know.” Beau whispered.

  “You don’t love Fjord or Caleb?” Caduceus asked.

  Beau let out a hearty chuckle.

  “No, not like that. You know I only…love women, right?”

  Caduceus shrugged, responding, “I suppose so. Why?”

  The monk sighed and turned to face her friend fully.

  “Well you know how you aren’t too interested in romantic love or the stuff Jester reads?” Beau queried.

  “Yeah, she reads those a lot.”

  Beau waved at Caduceus for the random remark, whispering, “I like women and not guys.”

  “I thought everyone knew who they did or didn’t like. I knew you liked women.”

  “Well, some people think that you can only like certain people, and no more or no less.” The monk paused. “Sometimes those people make you think the same thing.”

  “When did you realize those people were wrong?”

 

  _Beau hopped off the wall surrounding the Lionett manor, careful not to trip in front of the woman who had a knife to her throat not but two weeks before._

_Sunrise was only an hour away, but Beau trusted her accomplice to lead her to somewhere interesting enough to make her willing to deal with her father’s unavoidable scolding. The streets were dark and damp, and the lamps that were usually lit up had long burned out._

_The woman pulled Beau up through the highest tower in Kamordah, and sat down on its ledge._

_“Why are we here?” Beau asked._

_“Just sit down and you’ll see.” she spoke, taking Beau’s hand._

_With a bemused expression, Beau sat down next to her and looked to where her finger was pointed. The horizon was flat, but it was far beyond the reaches of Kamordah. Yet, with time, a sliver of light poked through, and the sun rose, filling the horizon._

_From their vantage point, Beau could see light flood through the streets of the city, like water through a strainer. It was beautiful._

_Beau’s toes warmed as the sun’s rays crawled over her form. Looking to her side, she saw the girl staring at the horizon, before turning back to Beau. Her dark skin bathed in honey-like gold, similar to Beau’s. The Lionett felt her heart skip a few beats._

_The woman smiled and held Beau’s hand, intertwining their fingers and pulling her close. Beau leaned in, her body willing itself to be gentle, as their lips touched._

_Her accomplice’s lips were soft, softer than anything she’d felt before. Beau let the woman wrap her arms around her own neck, and pull her close, letting her warmth and the sun melt away any chill from the previous night._

“She was heaven, Cad.”

  The cleric chuckled, whispering, “That sounded nice.”

  “It was.” Beau mumbled, glancing back at the Nein.

  “I guess everyone you kiss is like that?”

  Beau shook her head.

 

  _Driven by the high of victory, and the comfort of friends returned, Beau joined Keg in the second floor of the Sour Nest._

_Keg pushed Beau onto a bed and leaned down, pressing her lips against Beau’s._

_Keg’s lips were rough but gentle, the taste of a cigar lingering on her tongue and lips. Beau pulled the dwarf close, reciprocating and running her thumb against Keg’s stubble. The rest of the night was filled with kisses, and actions much more than kisses, but their affections were only skin-deep._

“Sometimes they’re not expected.” Beau continued.

 

  _“What does a kiss feel like, Beau?” Jester asked, licking a lollipop she bought._

_Beau shrugged and sat next to her roommate on a shared bed, leaning back against the wall._

_“They’re kinda weird at first.” Beau looked down at the Tiefling. “But they’re nice, when you do it with the right person.”_

_Jester sat up and sidled next to Beau. The monk tried to keep her eyes off the lollipop Jester was licking, and tried to focus on getting her wraps undone._

_“Can you show me?”_

_“What?”_

_“Can you show me?” Jester repeated. “I want to know if it's like the books I read.”_

_Beau furrowed her brows and turned to her friend._

_“Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”_

_Jester scoffed, insisting, “Of course, you’re my friend, Beau!”_

_The monk looked in disbelief and tried to quell any feelings creeping up in the depths of her heart. Beau sighed and held Jester’s hand, avoiding eye contact._

_“Okay. Pull away and tell me to stop if you need to, okay?” Beau instructed._

_Jester nodded._

_Beau took a deep breath in and placed a light hand on the back of Jester’s neck, drawing her close. Their foreheads touched._

_“Just do what feels right, okay Jes?”_

_Jester nodded her head again._

_Beau tilted her head up and leaned in, placing one gentle pair of lips onto another. Beau felt the air leave Jester’s lungs, and Beau slowed further, her movements steady and predictable. The monk pulled her other hand up and slid it through Jester’s hair, pulling her closer once more._

_Jester giggled against Beau’s lips and pulled away._

_A smile that worked its way onto Beau’s lips faded._

_Jester noticed, and moved closer to Beau once more._

_“Can I kiss you again?” she asked._

_“Y-Yeah.” Beau responded._

_The Tiefling giggled once more and kissed Beau, this time with less hesitancy. Jester moved to sit on Beau’s lap and pushed her down onto her back._

_“Kisses are a lot better than they make it sound in the books, Beau.”_

When Beau finished, Caduceus let out a hearty chuckle.

  “I always knew you two were close.”

  “I guess.” the monk chuckled herself. “I have one last…example to get off my chest, then I’ll stop bothering you.”

  Caduceus gave her the go-ahead.

 

  _Beau felt the air get knocked out of her lungs, as Yasha shut the door of their carriage. Yasha smirked and kissed Beau, with rough intensity, and didn’t leave until Beau was out of breath._

_As much as Beau didn’t want to hog a carriage for just her and Yasha, the rest of the Nein urged the two on._

_Suffice to say that for the entirety of the time they traveled throughout Xhorhas, their carriage always seemed to shake more than the others the rest of the group rode in._

“We’ve never ridden in carriages in Xhorhas, Beau.” Caduceus remarked.

  “Yeah, that was a dream.”

  “You probably-”

  “I probably should’ve clarified that, yeah.” Beau interrupted.

  At some point, Beau must’ve fallen asleep, because she awoke to a pale and blue hand shaking her. Beau would’ve jumped in place if it weren’t for the rest of the Nein right next to them.

  Yasha helped Beau up and the three walked to a hill behind the hut and sat atop it. Dew dampened the Beau and Yasha’s pants, while it barely touched Jester’s dress.

  Beau felt Jester and Yasha rest their heads on her shoulders, as the sun rose.

  Digits of light scattered through the blades of grass and warmed the women’s feet. Beau felt a familiar warmth emerge in her chest, nodding down to a Caduceus that waved to her and moved to wake up the rest of the Nein.

  Beau’s lips buzzed with the memory of past kisses, her mind racing to still get comfortable with both Yasha and Jester being at her side.

  All of it felt _right_ , though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, I'm possibly going to upload tomorrow's entry at 10 A.M. EST, so there's that.
> 
> But as I've said before, thank you for reading!
> 
> If you'd like, you can comment, critique, leave a kudos, or share the work!
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> EDIT: *spits out water* HOLY SHIT Y'ALL??? 300 hits and 30 kudos???? Thank you so much!


	6. Spells and Slip-Ups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Being a responsible fanfic writer? Never.
> 
> Look, I was watching Infinity War this morning to prepare for Endgame and I forgot I was supposed to upload this entry at 10. It's now practically 11. Look, I decided to go with Class Swap today.
> 
> Warnings: Mild language.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!

  Beau sat up in bed, yawning. Moonlight filtered through her window, and the young woman scoured for her glasses and lamp, unable to spot either item in the dark.

  In her half-awake state, one of her hands moved on its own, etching an invisible sigil into the air. Beau felt her fingertips warm, and in moments her sight was no longer obscured by an evening’s cloak. Blinking in surprise, she looked down at her right palm to find a light, which flooded her room. Her hand and forearm were encased with dim spectral armor. Glancing down at her chest, she found a similarly colored and styled armor on her chest.

  “What the fuck?” she whispered, turning her hand around.

  Beau rushed out of her room and only turned around to get her glasses.

  Firmly placed on the bridge of her nose, she rushed back out of her room and roamed through her manor, avoiding every weak plank and loud door. Even in darkness, Beau spotted family portraits and engraved artwork, in her head picturing the Lionett crest plastered everywhere.

  Finishing a long path, the woman’s hands brushed the door that lead to her parent’s bedroom. She placed her hand, still buzzing with warmth and residual magic, onto the doorknob and turned.

  Pushing in, she saw the outline of her parents sleeping in their bed, snoring.

  Beau dashed in and shook her father awake, whispering, “My body just made armor, dad!”

  The head of the house groaned and woke his wife.

  “Beauregard, I told you to stop this nonsense. The Lionettes possess no magic.” he held his daughter’s hand. “At the very least, they haven’t been able to tap into it for generations.”

  The woman sighed and recreated the movements her hand made. Her index drew in a large circle, with her middle and right ring finger filling it with various shapes, large and small. Her mind pictured the image of the sigil, which was complex in its own right, yet incredibly simple.

  Even for the naked human eye, Beau’s father saw traces of light follow his daughter’s movements until she tapped the vague area she drew in and her palm clad itself in blue armor, with the rest of her body following suit.

  Her mother was fully awake now, and paying attention. Beau’s parents glanced at each other in surprise, and the two moved to hug their daughter.

  Beau’s vision exploded and had to shut her eyes to avoid the bright light shining in her eyes.

  She found herself floating in nothingness.

  Beau attempted to take a deep breath in but found her lungs breathing in nothing. Panic settled in her chest and Beau thrashed in place, trying to move but unable to.

  Looking around, she spotted distant islands of rock, and specks of light filtering through them and seemingly directed into her eyes. Beau kept breathing in and out nothingness until a lean figure moved its way towards her.

  His form was lithe and yellow, his features elongated like an elf, but it looked like he had no nose. The closer he drifted, the angrier he looked. He drew a sword and raised it above him, and swung down. Beau braced herself for the incoming cut and flinched away, shutting her eyes.

  Feeling nothing, Beau opened her eyes and spotted her parents room once more, in the middle of the night.

  Absent-mindedly, her left palm drew a sigil and light emitted from her palm, illuminating the space. The room was almost empty, and Beau could spot cobwebs in the corners of various furniture and walls in her parents' room. Dust entered her throat when she drew in a real breath again. Taking a step towards her parents’ bed, she found it empty and in looking down at her hands, noted her long nails and height being longer and taller than before.

  Beau swore to herself, and burst through her parent’s door, leaving their room and entering their hallway. She glanced around the manor and found it in the same state as her parent’s room. She heard no rustling of servants working late in the night, and she didn’t hear any fires burning.

  She looked through the house and her eyes affirmed what her ears heard: nothing.

  Beau went to her second floor and paused when she heard rustling from the inside of her room. She knocked and opened the door.

  Inside, she saw her mother and father curled up on her bed, clutching her pillows and blankets, sobbing in near-silence.

  “Mom? Dad?” she called out.

  The two looked her direction and down at her palm. They jumped out of her bed and pulled her into a tight hug, as the light in her hand faded and left the family in darkness.

  Her father pulled away, choking out, “Don’t touch magic ever again. I don’t give a damn if it's in our blood, I don’t want you gone ever again for those vile practices.”

  “Yes,” her mother continued. “We’ve been keeping your room tidy in case you ever came back-”

  “If I ever came back?” Beau asked.

  “Yes, Beauregard.” her parents answered.

  “How long was I gone?”

  “Six months.” her father stated, clenching his jaw and brushing Beau’s hair away from her face.

  “Six _months?_ I was out for _six seconds_ -”

  Beau’s mother pressed a finger to her lips and guided the woman to her bed.

  “It need not matter now, you’re back. We can fix up the rest of the manor, now.”

  Beau looked between their worried faces and pushed up glasses that no longer helped, before tossing them aside. The woman nodded and lay down, turning away from her parents and towards her wall.

  Months after the incident, Beau was watched at all times, never allowed to move her fingers in any magical manner. She was told by her parents that Sorcerers were from a bygone era, no longer needed in today’s society. Beau understood her parents worry, but felt trapped in her own manor.

  Her supervisor kept an eye on her, following her every move. Despite the large figure behind her at any given point in time, it didn’t stop the kids in Kamordah from throwing dirt her way and calling her a freak whenever her fingertips began etching a sigil into the air.

  Of course, she was stopped every time, but halting herself never made their comments sting any less.

  Years passed.

  Beau became sick of the constant oversight, and the constant mockery she got everywhere she went. Cursing to herself, she snuck into the local library and stole Kamordah’s oldest spellbooks, stole a horse, and rode back to her manor.

  Hiding the horse in a nearby treeline, Beau clambered into her room and drew a sigil she memorized into the air. A silent image of her appeared and tucked herself into bed, as her real counterpart hopped out of the window and ran as fast as she could to her horse.

  It wasn’t until she’d nearly killed that horse to arrive in Trostenwald did she meet someone who understood her isolation. A certain Jester that opened all of the windows in the inn they stayed in to show off her magic.

  In time, Beau learned to trust the magic in her blood and to keep calm whenever she cast a spell. With every prank she joined Jester in, she also memorized another spell, trying to control anything bad from happening.

  She messed up, but Jester was always there to pick her up and usher her forward. Maybe her bloodline’s magic wasn’t so cursed after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wild Magic surges are just that: wild. But yeah, I had that idea and wanted to put a little bit of angst (not the best but I try) into this entry.
> 
> With that being said tomorrow I will upload the final entry (this week went by fast), at my usual time at 7 P.M. EST.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and if you wanna, please comment, leave a kudos, critique, and share!
> 
> EDIT: 400 HITS??? LET ME BREATHE WOW


	7. Family is All I Have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, y'all. This is pretty much the longest chapter/entry I've ever written. It's 2,000 words long. So I suggest you snuggle up to read this, and I hope that this is a fitting end to Beau Week 2019.
> 
> Warnings: Strong language.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

  Beau’s knees shook underneath her weight, almost failing her when she saw Jester fall onto the ground, unconscious and bleeding. She shut her eyes for a moment, then forced them open to stare at all of her friends, her _family_ , littering the dusty ground, their blood pooling around their soon-to-be carcasses.

  Glancing down at her knuckles, Beau focused, skin peeling away because her wraps were gone long before her first friend fell. She was only human. She couldn’t heal this, and she for damn well sure couldn’t revive her friends.

  Breathing in air, her nose burned from the smell of iron, ash, seawater, and fungus. Her lungs couldn’t draw anything but shallow breaths, her ribcage digging into the organs when she tried to calm herself down.

  Beau staggered forward, her feet aching and her legs sore, towards the figure in front of her.

  “They’ve fallen.” the shadow glanced around at their bodies. “I’m surprised you’d be the one still up.”

  The monk stepped closer, gritting her teeth, muttering, “Fuck you.”

  A brow raised.

  “Fuck you,” she grunted under her pain. “you piece of fuckin’ shit.”

  Beau rushed forward and sent the last of her ki into a punch, trying to aim at the orb in her enemy’s chest.

  Finding purchase, she dug her fist into its chest, forcing all of her will into the punch. Her hand set itself alight in an unnatural mix of searing heat and bitter cold, her ki burning through her hand and flooding into the orb. Yelling out in pain, Beau stepped back, watching amorphous features curl into a smile.

  “Unfortunate. I believe that was the limit of your capability, wasn’t it?”

  Beau’s face fell.

  “You know what, I’d like to broker something for you.” the entity paused. “If you can prove to me you love them, then I will spare their lives, at the cost of yours.”

  The monk’s stomach dropped.

  Gritting her teeth, Beau dragged her satchel from across the battlefield, placing it between her and her last hope at saving her family.

  Beau pulled out an old seal.

 

  _Fjord leaned over her shoulder, pointing at places in her sentence that sounded too brash._

_“Are you really gonna police everything I write?” Beau put down her quill. “I thought you told me to be authentic, Fjord.”_

_The half-orc chuckled and picked up the quill, “Well if every other sentence of a letter_ to your brother _has a swear in it, maybe you should be a little less authentic.”_

 _“He’s hung out with us, he knows I swear.” Fjord sent a glare the monk’s way. “Fine. But I swear I’ll ask Jester to use_ Sending _if you tell me not to put another comma again.”_

_“I’m alright with that.”_

_Through the night, the duo worked on Beau’s first letter in years, with Fjord giving half-hearted critiques and Beau joking to kill him in his sleep. Drawing a little flower in the parchment’s corner when finished, Beau had gone through half of Caleb’s ink, and to the wizard’s chagrin, had also gone through nearly a stack of his paper._

“Show me more, human.”

  Beau grit her teeth and pulled out a worn-out bracelet, her eyes trained on the figure.

 

  _The Nein had found their way back in Hupperdook, and in the evening got swept up by the crowds of Gnomes filling the streets._

_Walking with a tankard of ale in her hand, Beau marched down the street, arm-in-arm with Jester. The two sung drunken cheers. While marching, the monk felt a tug at her robe and glanced down to see Nott hold out a bracelet in her hand._

_Beau picked it up and looked closer._

_Flowers decorated simple twine, and each flower was different. Petals had begun wilting, but there was faint magic keeping the whole accessory presentable enough._

_“Thank you for everything, Beau.” the goblin whispered._

_“Are you drunk or are you just messing with me?”_

_Nott groaned, “No, Beau. I’m just thinking that this might be one of the last times I’m with this group, so I wanted to say thanks.”_

_The monk nodded, trying to keep a smile from appearing on her face._

_Later that evening, the two challenged each other to a drinking contest, with Nott downing several tankards in a matter of seconds, leaving Beau to finish the rest of her drinks before throwing up on the tavern floor. When her stomach emptied itself, the two women burst into a fit of laughter, only their hiccups stopping them from laughing for too long._

Beau glanced back at Nott’s form, before her eyes turned to Caleb. Her hand reached in for parchment and she pulled out a cipher.

 

  _“Widogast, can you help me learn this cipher?” Beau unfolded the paper and showed it to him. “I figured since you cracked it, you’d be the best person to teach me.”_

_The Zemnian chuckled and ushered her over, snapping Frumpkin into existence on her lap._

_“Weird, that one kinda looks like a flower.”_

_“Ja, I kind of changed that one from what Avantika originally had. This is a bit better, I think.”_

_Beau looked up from petting Frumpkin, admitting, “I never took you for a flower person.”_

_“People don’t usually take me for a lot of things, Beauregard.” he pet his cat before pointing at the cipher. “Let’s continue onto this one.”_

_The entirety of the humans’ afternoon was filled with studying Avantika’s cipher. When Beau tripped up, Caleb would give her a moment to figure it out on her own. Towards dusk, the monk thanked Caleb for teaching her and gave him a tight squeeze, even putting up with the smell of what was undoubtedly bat guano._

“What about her?” the entity whispered, pointing at Yasha.

  “I was getting to her, shithead.”

 

  _Beau sat down for second watch next to Yasha, leaning on her palms and staring at the night sky through a veil of orange. It was still breathtaking, even if it looked like the sky was covered with cheese._

_“Did Xhorhas look any different at night?” Beau asked._

_Yasha sighed and shut her flower book, whispering, “Yes and no. There were still stars and some clouds but it felt a lot different.”_

_“…Like it was cold?”_

_“No, Beau. In Xhorhas, you fear the night, because there are many things that are hungry.” Yasha stated._

_“I mean, it’s still kinda scary over here, just saying.” Beau sniffled. “I was just trying to connect with you about that. I’ll stop.”_

_Beau caught a glimpse of Yasha rolling her eyes, and watched her friend turn away before presenting Beau a leather-bound journal._

_“What’s this, Yash?”_

_“A gift, of sorts. I’ve been meaning to give everyone something and I thought I might start with you, you know.” Yasha answered, wrapping Beau’s fingers around the gift._

_“Thank you.”_

_“No problem.”_

_It took several months for Beau to write to the last page, and when the final period was placed, the monk turned to Yasha’s habits and collected flowers, pressing them into note after note-filled page. Yasha, of course, found it bizarre at first, but found herself picking two flowers instead of one, in order for Beau to have a flower for her own journal._

“How touching, human.”

  Beau rolled her eyes and pulled out a tea cup.

 

  _“I feel most at home when there’s almost too much chaos, y’know?”_

_Caduceus chuckled at his friend’s admission._

_“You’ve told me this before, Ms. Beau.”_

_Beau took a sip from her cup and muttered, “Did I? Well, you’re hearing me say it again, Cad.”_

_Her friend shook his head and poured her another cup of tea, staring at the skyline of the city they were staying in. It was beautiful, but Beau could tell he missed the natural world he stayed in for so long._

_“I wanna show you something.” she said._

_The comment raised Caduceus’ eye, but he followed her lead._

_The two walked throughout the city, though avoided the bustling places and headed towards a Cobalt Soul library. Beau held up her sash to the clerk and led Caduceus to the back, where the library’s garden was._

_Entering the night once more, Caduceus’ gaze fell to the dappled stone furniture and walkways throughout the garden, but walked towards the central tree. Though it was lit by some sort of magical means, Beau spotted comfort settling on Caduceus’ movements._

_Until dawn, Caduceus and Beau chatted in the garden, talking about chaos and peace, the two even reaching an understanding about the intricacies of nature and life. At times, Caduceus would even offer a budding flower for Beau to put in her notebook. When the sun rose, Beau found herself waking up next to Caduceus, their teacups rested between them._

Beau tugged on her pirate coat she got from the Ball-Eater.

 

  _The morning was unnaturally stormy, and Beau had retreated from shopping with the Nein to get some rest for her sore legs._

_Arriving at her room, Beau pressed her ear against the door and heard muffled sniffling._

_The monk stepped into her room and spotted Jester on the floor, crying._

_“Jes?”_

_Her friend wiped her eyes and looked up at her, croaking out, “It’s okay, I was just having a runny nose.”_

_Beau narrowed her eyes at Jester and shut the door behind her, walking to where Jester was and sitting down next to her. She shrugged off her pirate coat and wrapped it around Jester, noting that there was no fire in their room’s complementary fireplace._

_“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it. Just don’t be afraid to cry, we’re friends, remember?” Beau stated, pulling Jester closer and placing a kiss on the top of her head._

_Jester nodded, sniffling. She looked up at Beau, chin quivering, before burying her face in her friend’s shoulder and crying._

_“I don’t-I don’t-”_

_“Shh.”_

_Beau and Jester stayed in their room for hours, with the former sitting in silence and letting Jester cry as much as she needed. In time, the cleric’s sobs faded as she fell asleep on Beau’s shoulder. When the Nein arrived to check in on them, Beau waved them away and stayed next to Jester, not moving, even when the sun was gone._

“Are you forgetting someone?” the voice rang.

  “No, I’m not.” she spoke through a clenched jaw.

  Beau pulled the cloth holding her hair up from its place, and gripped it tight, presenting it to the creature.

 

  _The monk rested on her knees in front of his grave, clutching his coat, somehow still there. The coat’s edges were worn and frayed. It had been a while._

_It’s been too long, Beau’s sure he would say, but in this silence alone, she could only feel warm tears building up._

_Memories from that day on Glory Run still haunted her. The sight of blood pooling at his chest still repeated whenever she fought someone she felt was too strong._

_But Beau could feel Molly’s hand on her shoulder, cheering her on. Could’ve sworn he was wearing a flower crown too._

Beau dropped the strip of fabric and fell to her knees, eyes trained on her enemy.

  “Bring them back.” she growled. “Kill me, _I don’t care_. But I’ve shown you that I’ve loved my family. So keep your end of the bargain. Please.”

  The entity’s lips curled into a smile, and Beau felt hot pain churning at her insides.

  Looking back, she saw her keepsakes fly to rest on her friend’s bodies, as they rose once more, their blood no longer leaking from their bodies and their eyes adjusting to the mid-day sun. Glancing down, Molly’s keepsake tied itself around her wrist.

  “Your family is alive.”

  Beau chuckled and stood up, turning around to look at them one last time. The pain in her chest continued, and she felt her knees get weak.

  The monk collapsed to her knees once more, as she stared at _her family_ and said, “I love you.”

  Beau’s eyes shut and the remnants of her vision left her soul, as darkness enveloped her.

  Coldness.

 

  Then a stab entered her chest and Beau sat up, gripping Caduceus and Jester’s arms.

  “What?”

  “We cast a spell just in time, Beau.” The stated.

  The two pulled Beau into a hug. It was tight.

  Then it got tighter.

  Before long, the entire Nein had her in their arms.

  She was with her family again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are your thoughts? 
> 
> If you enjoyed my entries for the week, please drop a kudos, critique, comment, or share the work!
> 
> Thank you for reading and being along for this ride.
> 
> NOTE: If you've read my other multi-chapter work, "there's something so broken about this" (and if you haven't and are a beauyasha shipper, i'm nudging you to read it), then you know I'm going to be working on a Beau/Jester multi-chapter fic. Now, considering it's really close to testing season and all, I'll likely be posting the first chapter (and subsequent ones) in June.
> 
> Again, thank you all for reading this, and my other works as well!
> 
> EDIT: 500 HITS AND NEARLY 50 KUDOS? I'ma go take a seat lmao


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